Consumption
If of consumption he'd not died
(My grandpa's dad, he just a lad),
I'd not have known my friend, the man,
Or if I had, what kind of man?
Would she’d have thought him worth the catch
Or saved her hook and thrown him back
As man who'd come across the sea
Left God behind in mists to be
But half the man God had in mind,
Though nice, no doubt, perhaps as kind?For preacher of Toronto Kirk
Took wee boy neath his wing as work
He did within Spadina slum
To ease the load of single mom;
Taught Greek to him by age of twelve,
Encouraged him in school to delve.
Then son of a professor took
This waif, his friend, away from books –
Canoed the shores of Georgian Bay
With love of camping there to stay.Through convoluted Elmwood days
My parents met and me they raised
As camper, swimmer, lifeguard boy
Who fresh-air-camp chose to employ
When friend and girl played mating game
And thought aloud his call that came;
And as he did, helped me to grow,
Then later Sandy road to go,
Give news to him (my call response)
On stairwell grandpa’d built there once.Down through the years like woof and warp
The fabric of our lives throughout
Have interwoven, carried me
Through faith-based quest to victory;
Held steady many faltered steps;
Encouraged my adventure; yet
As now I come to light of day,
And pain subsides the childbirth way,
I see God bring such good about
Through TB death’s most tragic route.As we watch on through cancer's pain,
Consumption’s specter much the same,
I wonder what will come about
As other’s families walk that route –
Perhaps not now, some instant way,
But decades hence, in future day,
As God picks up the threads of life
And interweaves some person's life –
Thus like some checkers expert can,
Use any spaces left by man.navigation